This Old Love
by CoutureWriting
Summary: Victoire Weasley, fifth-year, is Ravenclaw's princess, and Teddy Lupin is the untouchable Head Boy two years above her. They've been on a collision course their whole lives ... but can either one accept it?
1. PROLOGUE: The Sorting

I hope you're not sick of Victoire/Teddy fics, because I adore the pair. Here goes, let me know if it's any good, or if you have any constructive criticism. I will make the chapters longer, but this is just the prologue. Thanks!

PROLOGUE: _The Sorting_

_Victoire Weasley twisted a lock of her pearlescent blonde hair through her long, slender fingers in nervous anticipation. She craned her neck as far as she could to get a closer look at the mediocre excuse for a hat that stood on the stool in centre-stage. _

_She was blissfully unaware of all the boys turning to gawk at her without any modesty. She glided along with the rest of the first-years with all the grace that she had inherited from her mother. _

_She recoiled visibly when she was close enough to see the tear in the hat mid-song. It was soiled and ugly, and she paled at the thought of having it placed on her head. With a faint laugh, she imagined what her mother's reaction would be if she were presented with such a filthy object, and was expected to wear it. Fleur was already disappointed enough that Victoire had not agreed to go to Beauxbatons, her own alma mater._

_For what must have been the twentieth time that night, she turned to stare longingly at the Gryffindor table. She saw third-year Teddy Lupin deep in what appeared to be an amusing conversation with his friend, but he looked up when he noticed her and winked, his hair slowly morphing into red and gold. She returned his smile somewhat half-heartedly. Then Teddy turned his attention away as he slung his arm around the pretty girl beside him and whispered something in her ear. Victoire glanced away in distaste. _

"_Valery, Katherina," called Professor Longbottom._

_A pretty little thing with dark hair and nervous amber eyes clambered to the stage and dropped onto the stool, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. _

_Longbottom placed the mangy old thing on her head and stepped back. _

"_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

_She glanced at the boy beside her, and they both shared looks of equal anxiety. Victoire was sure he'd mentioned his surname began with a Z, which meant …_

"_Weasley, Victoire," Longbottom announced. _

_With a sympathetic smile, Victoire floated up the steps and turned to take her position on the stool gracefully. _

_The hat was so large it fell below her ears and shielded her view of the Hall, something she was somewhat grateful for. _

"_Another Weasley?" _

_She recoiled. The hat _spoke_?_

"_Is that a problem?" she thought indignantly. _

"_But there's something else, too," he said. "Someone's head that I've never touched …"_

"_Like she'd let you," she laughed soundlessly._

"_Fleur Delacour," he said finally. "Beauxbatons, eh? To each his own … _her_ own, I should say. But where do I put you?"_

_She waited impatiently._

"_I could put you in Slytherin," the hat murmured. "You're certainly confident and have a penchant for attracting the attention of fools … is it the Veela blood that does that?"_

"_My father would have a coronary," she thought._

"_Hmmm," the hat mused. "You're smart, aren't you? You've got the talent, that's a given, I can see it now. Perhaps Ravenclaw is the place for you … yes, yes … it better be—"_

"_RAVENCLAW!" the hat announced to the crowd. _

_Victoire felt the hat be pulled from her head, and she stood automatically, glancing down at the table that proudly wore a shade of deep blue. She smiled despite herself as she descended the steps a little too quickly to be considered elegant, and took a seat at the end beside another first-year. _

"_I knew it," the witch beside her whispered, brushing her mane of jet-black hair out of her eyes in excitement. "I knew you'd be a Ravenclaw! I'm Tess Savage, by the way." _


	2. ONE: Four Years Later

CHAPTER ONE: _Four Years Later_

Victoire nudged her best friend Tess in the ribs and watched the incoming procession with interest. She was searching for the face of her cousin amongst the other first-years, and when she found it, she was surprised to see it looking calm and confident. James Sirius Potter spotted her through the mass of eleven-year-olds and waved.

"Is that him?" asked Tess. "I can tell already he's a little terrorist, look at that grin!"

Victoire glanced back at him and saw him trip the girl beside him. She rolled her eyes and laughed. "I feel sorry for Gryffindor," she said sagely. "He's going to create havoc for the rest of them."

"How do you know it will be Gryffindor?" asked Tess with interest.

"He's Harry's son, isn't he? I have no doubt it will take the hat two seconds to decide." She tossed her blonde tresses out of her face.

Victoire glanced down the Ravenclaw table, to where Dominique and Louis sat, in their third and second years, respectively. She caught Dominique's eye and smiled serenely at her little sister, who grinned back, scratching her red hair absentmindedly.

Dominique was beautiful, and resembled Victoire so strongly that they were constantly being compared. However, she had been the only child of their parents to inherit the trademark Weasley hair from their father. It was a charming combination, as her hair and skin inherited that faint incandescence from their mother, and she was incredibly pretty.

Louis, now twelve, was a male version of Bill, but with his mother's hair and eyes. When Fleur had shown Victoire photographs of her young father before he'd been attacked and photos of Louis at the same age, the likeness was shocking. But now Louis had developed a sauntering walk and a habit of running his fingers through his hair obnoxiously at every chance he got, making the most of his good looks.

The Sorting Ceremony still fascinated Victoire, and she felt slightly envious of the eager first-years, who were now beginning to step forward to be sorted. She wanted another chance to talk to the wise old hat that she'd so harshly judged.

She clapped at each new addition to their house, conscious of the prefect badge pinned to her uniform.

"Potter, James," Professor Longbottom called out. He smiled kindly as James sauntered up to the stool and pulled the hat on himself.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it cried.

Victoire glanced at Tess triumphantly. "Told you," she said simply. "His brother Albus will probably be the one to be a Hatstall."

Tess rolled her eyes and gestured at the stool, where the next first year had taken their place and was promptly sorted into Slytherin.

Finally, Longbottom reached the Vs, after which there were no more names, and folded up the parchment and removed the stool and hat.

Professor McGonagall stood.

"A very warm welcome for our first-years, and a welcome back to our returning students," she called, no need for her voice to be magically magnified, as every student sat at attention, "and sincere thank you to Professor Longbottom."

Victoire stole a glance at the Gryffindor table, where Teddy was rubbing James's hair affectionately with his knuckles.

"I would like to congratulate our Head Boy and Girl, Teddy Lupin from Gryffindor house," her chest surged proudly, "and Catherine Bates from Hufflepuff."

"Do you think the teachers know everybody only voted for Teddy because he's gorgeous and popular?" she mused.

Victoire laughed and shook her head.

"So, another year at Hogwarts is upon us," McGonagall continued. "I wish to remind you all that the Forbidden Forest _is _called that for a reason and that Mr Filch has requested harsher punishments for students breaking curfews. This possibility is still pending so I would advise you not to try him."

"Ah, the Forbidden Forest," said Tess nostalgically. "What fun we've had there. D'you think she knows the start-of-term parties are always held there, or is she blissfully oblivious?"

"Let's hope it's the latter and not the former, shall we?" Victoire replied. "If she knew, we'd all have detention for the rest of our natural lives. Mind you, I'm surprised she doesn't hear it. Students can make a lot of noise under the influence of Firewhiskey and teenage hormones."

"You speak so wisely for one so young," Tess mocked.

Victoire rolled her eyes, still staring at McGonagall absentmindedly as she finished her speech. "What can I say? My mother brought me up well."

Tess laughed, a high, hearty noise that caused several students to glance over, alarmed.

"Keep it down, will you?" Victoire demanded.

Finally, Professor McGonagall finished, and with a clap of her hands, the food appeared on the platters before them.

"Merlin, I forget over the summer how good the House Elves are to us," said Tess, piling her plate high with roast potatoes.

"You say that every year," laughed Victoire.

"Where's he going, I wonder?" said Tess, with a full-mouthed gesture behind Victoire.

She turned and saw Teddy stride from the Great Hall. Nobody appeared to notice but his Gryffindor.

"Should I go and see?" asked Victoire, to no one in particular.

"Better you than me," said Tess, taking another bite.

Victoire got to her feet decidedly, unable to help the interested stares that her genes often attracted. She reached the doors and slipped through them quietly.

There was nobody in the entrance, but she could hear footsteps. She followed the sound to one of the classrooms down the hall.

"Teddy?" she called uncertainly.

She pushed open the door.

"What do you want?" Teddy demanded, rather more harshly than he'd intended. He sat upon one of the desks, his feet on the chair, a lit cigarette in hand.

"I … Are you all right?"

He shook his head dolefully. His eyes were heavy and he looked somehow angry. "Don't you _know_? I thought somebody would have told you by now."

"Told me _what_, precisely?" she demanded impatiently.

"My grandmother died last week," he said sadly.

"Oh, Teddy," Victoire murmured. She allowed her emotions to get the better of her. She approached him carefully and placed her chin in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him tightly. "Harry should have told me."

Her scent overwhelmed him. She smelt like roses and vanilla and an implacable scent that she'd always had. Her hair was in his face, a soft mist of silver blonde.

When she let go, she clambered gracefully onto the desk beside him. He offered her the cigarette. She didn't even hesitate, placing it in her lips and taking a drag before handing it back to him.

"I just expected her to be there forever, you know?" he murmured. "But then again, everybody else in my family's dead, so she's probably better off."

Victoire felt tears prick her eyes. "Don't speak like that," she begged. "You still have Harry, and you'll never get rid of us Weasleys."

He smiled half-heartedly, and she got the impression that it was only to make her feel better.

"Come on, Teddy," she whispered. "I know you'll get through it. If you need help, I'm here, I promise."

He noted the firmness of her voice. "The funeral's the day after tomorrow."

"I'm coming," she said. "No arguments, okay?"

He placed an arm around her shoulders and drew her close.

"They'll be wondering where you are, Head Boy," she mumbled.

"And you, Prefect," he muttered.

She kissed his cheek affectionately and got to her feet, pulling him with her. "Come on, Mr Lupin."


End file.
